Photos By Craig Spychalla/Daily Register
Harold Hill (Ben Bromley) tries to show librarian Marian Paroo (Melisa John) his true feelings for her in Baraboo Theatre Guild’s version of “The Music Man.”

Iowa stubborn.

Minnesota nice.

And that nickname for our neighbors to the south that cannot be printed here.

Cultural names we have given our surrounding Midwest neighbors have stuck for generations. But perhaps there is no city that embraces their moniker more than the fine people of River City, Iowa.

They are a no-nonsense group who only use the word "CHANGE" when referring to the jingling coins in their pockets. And they "can be cold as a falling thermometer in December."

But perhaps it only takes a person like professor Harold Hill to show that the townspeople are not really a closed community - they are just by-God stubborn.

This weekend and next, the Baraboo Theatre Guild is giving audiences a healthy dose of Iowa stubborn with its version of Meredith Willson's "The Music Man." The people of River City will open their arms to those coming to the show, but just don't expect to see eye to eye with them.

"That's what Iowa stubborn is," said director Tina Lang. "(It's) nice to have you join us, but bring your own food to the potluck.

"They are no-nonsense people who get to their business and stick to their business. And probably know too much about each other's business."

The musical - one of the larger undertakings for the Guild - has more than 60 people in the cast. And the invisible barrier between the stage and audience will be broken down at times during the show as a way to make scene changes as seamless as possible.

"That's really part of the design," Lang said, "to help bring the action and characters out into the audience."

That way residents of River City can bring a little Iowa stubborn up the aisles.

The traveling man

He's not what you would call a lovable loser, but there are good qualities to Harold Hill, a traveling con man, who in 1912, convinces River City parents to spend some money.

Hill's con in "The Music Man" is that he will teach the town's children to play in a band if new instruments are bought. But before he can leave town with the cash, a wrench in his plan comes in the form of the town's librarian, who has caught his eye.

"Harold Hill is a challenging character to play because he undergoes a metamorphosis," said Ben Bromley, who plays Hill. "He starts out as a lovable liar, a charmer who doesn't think twice about swindling people out of their money. But in the end, he is transformed by the love of a good woman.

"It's a tough sell, but audiences want to believe in Harold's turnaround, because we all want to believe people can change for the better."

Infatuation between Hill and Marian Paroo (played by Melisa John) does drive the play, but Lang said this version is not a love story.

"I see it more about both Harold and Marian finding themselves," Lang said. "Who knows, they may end up together."

After 40 drafts and 22 songs cut out, "The Music Man" made its debut on Broadway in 1957 and garnered five Tony Awards. It's a play that's built on small-town charm with a catchy score that has ingrained such songs as "Trouble," "Goodnight Ladies" and "Seventy-six Trombones" into our culture. The musical has even been parodied by "The Simpsons" and "The Family Guy."

With "The Music Man," the Guild is hoping to pack the house with the popular musical coming off last year's "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" which audiences weren't as familiar with.

"Crowds didn't support it last year because they were not familiar with the literature, which is too bad because it was really well done," Lang said.

The town

The stage at the Al. Ringling Theatre is just big enough to hold the townspeople of River City.

It's when costume changes occur that every spare inch of the theater's property is creatively used.

"Space is really the difficulty," said Lang, who also directed "Into the Woods" and "Sound of Music" for the Guild.

In creating the fictitious River City, which is believed to be modeled after Willson's hometown of Mason City, Lang has used a lot of children to make the town come to life. Too often, she said, plays just focus on the adults.

"I think it's important to find a way to include children into community theater," she said.

"Partly because they bring such energy and joy to the audience, and partly because we wanted to help children have a good musical theater experience."

Lang, a reverend for the First United Methodist Church in Madison, also has directed shows for the Baraboo High School, where her husband directs the band. And some of those students have made the jump to this show.

While the town is fictional, it's a place with standard Midwestern values like family and stability.

"River City is probably a fairly close-knit, fairly conservative, very supportive group of neighbors who are somewhat resistant to change."

It's a hometown feel, Lang said, that we can relate to.

The costumesMoments before the curtain goes up, Marjorie Cutting and Gretchen Roltgen are below the stage in the dressing rooms with a few safety pins and words of encouragement.

"Our goal is to make sure no one goes on stage in just their underwear," Roltgen joked.

With 140 costumes to make, fit and accessorize, "The Music Man" has been the ultimate wardrobe challenge for the veteran costume designers, a crew that includes Gwynne Peterson, who created all the colorful hats.

Cutting, who has worked as a professional costume designer, has been making actors and actresses look good since 1951. And with such a large task ahead for the Guild production, Cutting explained the simple approach. "We started off making sure everybody had one costume," she said of the extensive labor involved in this production, where the cast has at least two wardrobe changes.

Roltgen, who used to work under the big top outfitting the circus in Baraboo, has spent her time away from her current job at the library by sewing outfits.

"This is the first production I've worked on that I have not seen the entire production from top to bottom (before it opened)," Roltgen said.

The new concession area of the Al. Ringling Theatre was turned into the sewing room for Cutting and Roltgen in the weeks leading up to the opening, which took place Thursday.

When the musical was cast in August, costume production started with some outfits pulled from storage and others made from scratch.

Creating the look of a small town in Iowa in 1912 started at the library with books and reprints of period catalogs.

"Men's styles have changed very little (over time)," Roltgen said. "Ladies styles have gone up and down, literally, with hemline styles."

Although Roltgen said everything looks better in sequins, the townspeople of River City forgo flashy and stick with a simple, colorful look to capture Iowa.

"The costume (designers) have just been fabulous. The size of the cast has almost been unwieldy," Lang said. "It's very complicated work."

Before the show starts, Roltgen and Cutting tend to last-minute details before their hard work is put under the stage lights for everyone to see. But it's that time before the show they get to feel what makes all the sewing worthwhile.

"I love going down in the dressing room on opening night," Roltgen said. "There is so much energy and it's so positive."

If You Go

What: Baraboo Theatre Guild's "The Music Man."

When: 7:30 p.m. Nov. 5-7 and Nov. 12-14. There also will be two Sunday shows, Nov. 8 and 15 at 2 p.m.

Tickets: $15 for adults, $12 for seniors and children. Tickets available at Corner Drug, the Al. Ringling Theatre, or online at www.barabootheatreguild.org.

COLUMN: Having coffee with the Music Man and his teacher

By Lyn Jerde/Daily Register

If the actors and stage crew of the Baraboo Theatre Guild haven't already discovered this, they will soon: Almost everybody has a "Music Man" story.

Yes, me too.

Mine isn't the garden-variety tale of my high school doing "The Music Man," though I was an usher when Herbert Hoover High School of Des Moines, Iowa, put on the show in 1974 - and many of my friends were either in the pit orchestra, or extras in the boys' band.

Nor is my tale related to a community theater performance, though I did once audition for the role of Eulalie Shinn, the portly and pseudo-erudite wife of the River City mayor, in Monroe, Wis. I didn't get the part. Guess my rendition of "Pick a Little, Talk a Little" wasn't shrill enough.

No, my story is even better than those.

I once had coffee with the Music Man and his music

teacher.

It was sometime in 1982, two years before "Music Man" author and composer Meredith Willson died.

I was the editor of the weekly Mirror-Reporter in Clear Lake, Iowa - yes, the community mentioned by name in the "Music Man" song "Iowa Stubborn." Clear Lake is about eight miles west of Mason City, which was Willson's hometown and the inspiration for the play's setting of River City, circa 1912.

Among Clear Lake's citizens was a man by the name of John Kopecky, who really was a music man. In the days of silent movies, he played piano to accompany the on-screen images and slogans. He founded a drum and bugle corps composed of fourth-graders, once billed as "Youngest in the Nation." Well into his 90s, he played calliope in northern Iowa parades. And, in his younger days, he taught music to a young man in Mason City by the name of Meredith Willson.

Kopecky was about 96, and I was about 24, when he called me at the Mirror-Reporter office and asked me, "How would you like to have coffee with Meredith Willson?"

Willson, then 80, and his wife, Rosemary, came to the home of John and Hazel Kopecky, where I was waiting with my camera and notebook.

As it turned out, Willson was exhausted, and a little confused - not in the mood for an interview.

So, this would be just a social visit, not a story.

Just to share a cup of coffee with one of Iowa's most famous native sons was enough for me.

I was an infant when "The Music Man" premiered at Broadway's Majestic Theater in Dec. 19, 1957.

One of my earliest childhood memories is of hearing my mother sing "Seventy-six Trombones" to me and my little brothers.

Whenever my brother Dan acted up, Mom would declare that he was "trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with D and that stands for Dan."

When I was in elementary school, I saw my first stage performance of "The Music Man," and noticed the unique use of barbershop-quartet numbers in the repertoire - though it would be years before I understood who those four characters were (River City School Board members who hated each other), and how they fit into the story (they joined forces to get the goods on "Professor" Harold Hill, who always distracted them by starting them on a close-harmony song).

When I studied vocal music in junior high, the teacher pointed out that "Seventy-six Trombones" and "Good Night, My Someone" were the same tune with different meters.

When I started work at a small-town Iowa newspaper, I knew that, in "Iowa Stubborn," Willson had captured perfectly the sternness, stoicism and boundless generosity of the people of my native state, and his.

So, for me, just sitting across a table with the Music Man was all an Iowa girl could ask for.